


precious

by LadyMerlin



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Not Beta Read, Post-Canon, Prompt: Gemstone, RoyEd-Free-For-All Daily Challenge, Sleepy Cuddles, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 18:32:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18762043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMerlin/pseuds/LadyMerlin
Summary: Roy can’t sleep, thinking about the way Ed has filled up his life, colonising inch by miserable inch, one cold room at a time, and filling him up with light and colour.(There’s a ring box burning a hole in Roy’s pocket)





	precious

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the RoyEd Free-For-All Discord Server's Daily Challenge. Today's prompt was "gemstone".
> 
> I am, in fact, almost too soft to function. This garbage was written on the train (as usual) and reflects that facet of my personality.

There’s a ring box burning a hole in Roy’s pocket. 

Not literally, of course, because his clothes are mostly fireproof (Riza had insisted, for obvious reasons) and because he’s smarter than to carry around a ring box like it wouldn’t be immediately and painfully obvious to Ed (who spends a good amount of time with his hands on Roy’s ass). Also if it falls out of his pocket and he loses it, he might actually have a heart attack and he’s not ready to die yet. It all depends on what Ed says.

The ring is only metaphorically burning a hole in his pocket, and is _actually_ located in a drawer in his old bedroom at Madame Christmas’ house. It’s a room which now belongs to a young girl named Lydia, who has golden hair like Ed and thinks Ed is the best thing since sliced bread (Roy agrees). He can think of no place safer for it. 

He’s been waiting a long time to ask the question, and it’s been burning a hole in his _head_ , which is frankly much more combustible than his clothes. 

Roy knows better than to plan something public. He knows Ed well enough, at least, for that. Ed would hate a spectacle. Once when he was younger (and stupider) he’d told Maes that he’d want to celebrate his love in the loudest way possible. Maybe a parade or by shouting it from the rooftops.

Maes had laughed at him then, not unkindly, and promised him that when he found the person he loved, the only way he’d ever want to talk about it is to whisper in their ear.

Roy hadn’t understood until the day he’d finally confessed that he loved Ed. Then, the only way he’d been able to say it was softly, honestly, into Ed’s ear, like the words were too precious to be allowed outside, for fear that they might not reach Ed safely. Ed had matched him, pressing the words into his mouth in between kisses, like the most precious jewels in the world.

And Roy would honestly never forget that night, when he’d remembered what Maes had told him all those years before. Maes too, had known that Gracia was the woman he’d marry. Roy’s realisation had admittedly been less... immediate, but no less stunning, like a lightning bolt from the sky, catastrophic in its impact.

He’d rolled out of bed one morning to find Ed sitting on his doorstep, drawing alchemical designs in some soil on the ground. When Roy asked why Ed hadn’t just rung the doorbell, Ed had shrugged, saying that Roy had looked like he needed the sleep. Roy had known then that he never wanted to find Ed at his doorstep, ever again. He only ever wanted to wake up to Ed in his bed, under his arm, with his hair in Roy’s face, like that’s where he belonged.

So yes, he knows better than to go public, but he’s been toying with the decision for a long time. He hasn’t talked to anybody about it, because only Al knows Ed better than Roy does, and he’s definitely not going to ask Al about it. 

He visits Madame Christmas to pick up the ring, and somehow she knows, and wishes him good luck. He doesn’t know how or why, but he’s not even surprised anymore. His mother is probably telepathic. He apologises mentally for everything she must’ve heard over the past three decades, and leaves without questioning her further. He needs to think. 

He’s still thinking about it when Ed crawls into bed with him one night, and falls asleep with his face pressed into Roy’s armpit and his cold arm pressed right over Roy’s kidney. His other foot, the one that’s made of flesh but tends to get cold, is shoved under Roy’s knee, leeching away his warmth.

Ed sleeps like a kitten, like his back is broken in three places, like he’s bigger than a small house, with the sheer amount of space he occupies. Roy sometimes thinks that Ed, like a gas, expands to fill the space he’s given. Roy can’t sleep, thinking about the way Ed has filled up his life, colonising inch by miserable inch, one cold room at a time, and filling him up with light and colour.

He watches Ed through the night. Avoids a few flailing limbs. Maybe he sleeps for a bit, but in his dreams he’s doing the same thing, just watching Ed, stroking his hair. Ed would call him a creep, but he wouldn’t do anything about it, so.

Roy comes back to awareness when the early morning sunlight starts creeping into the room, from beneath the curtains. Golden light crawls across the wooden floor and onto the side of the bed where Ed is lying, making him screw his eyes tighter and fist a complaining hand in Roy’s sleepshirt. He makes a sleepy noise, which Roy knows (from experience) means, “turn it off Mustang, make it stop...”

Unfortunately since Roy doesn’t actually control the universe, there’s nothing he can do unless he gets out of bed, and he’s not getting out of bed if he can help it; not yet.

Ed drags him closer when he doesn’t respond, shoving his face underneath Roy’s body to escape from the sunshine. In the darkness of their bedroom, his hair seems to glow and Roy can’t help but kiss it. He smells like fire and iron, the tang of alchemy.

He knows. This is the perfect moment.

He finds the box in his bedside drawer without even looking, and draws back a little bit, pretending the protesting noises Ed makes in the back of his throat don’t break his heart. When he pries Ed’s hand off his shirt, one curled finger at a time, Ed starts drowsing awake.

Before he comes fully to awareness, Roy puts the box in Ed’s hand and closes his fingers around it, and keeps his hands there, hoping that it’s enough to keep Ed from throwing the box back at him. His heart is beating like a drum, about to launch itself straight out of his mouth.

Ed makes a questioning noise and cracks his eyes open. Roy let’s go of his hand, a little reluctantly. Maybe he should have waited a while longer. This was impulsive, and Roy’s impulses rarely turn out well.

Ed glances down at the box in his hand and then up at Roy, lightning quick. “Really?” He asks, pressing his other hand flat on Roy’s chest; a lifeline.

Roy nods. His throat isn’t working.

Ed opens the box and the ring - well. Roy had started looking for the ring a few months after he met Ed. He’d looked so hard he’d almost given up, and then Riza had given him an idea...

It’s his mother’s ring. He’d had the gold melted down and reforged, with a yellow diamond pressed into the band, almost flush with the metal so it doesn’t catch on anything. It’s not particularly beautiful, but it is elegant, and the gold reminds him of Ed’s eyes. It would suit Ed’s hand, if only he agreed to wear it.

Roy’s almost shaking when Ed finally looks up at him. “Really?” He asks again, “me?”

Roy nods, and somehow without realising, his hands have clenched in the fabric of Ed’s shirt. “Really,” he manages. “Will you?”

The words have barely crossed the threshold of his lips when Ed surges forward and kisses him, hard, and sure. “Yes,” he says into Roy’s mouth, the same way he tells Roy that he loves him; the words even taste the same. “Yes, Roy, I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> Pls send love. RL is rough, and comments & kudos are the only things that keep me going.


End file.
